Category: Non-Rhyming

My poetry belongs to me. All poems under the category “Poetry by Me” are mine. Use of my poetry without my permission is prohibited. If you wish to use any my poetry for any reason, ask me for permission first.

*(Note: This whole poem is based on a real life moment just a few days earlier. I would rather not explain the symbolism because it’s difficult to explain and specific to us. Those involved will understand when they read it. For the rest of you, you don’t need to understand. It can be whatever you imagine.)

My poetry belongs to me. All poems under the category “Poetry by Me” are mine. Use of my poetry without my permission is prohibited. If you wish to use any my poetry for any reason, ask me for permission first.

My poetry belongs to me. All poems under the category “Poetry by Me” are mine. Use of my poetry without my permission is prohibited. If you wish to use any my poetry for any reason, ask me for permission first.

Imagine a world without color,
where light could only create black and white
and monochrome was the status quo.
A rainbow would appear in shades of gray
and a flower could only be recognized by shape.
Beauty would no longer be defined as bright
but a simple, unified dullness.

Imagine a world without color,
where a human was just a human.
No person could be defined by
the pigment of their hair
or the vibrancy of their eyes.
Humanity could not be divided
by the color of our skin
and the shades would be too close to separate.
Equality would be a commonality.

Imagine a world without color,
where variety could only be found
in shapes, textures, and sounds.
With less to distract your eyes,
your ears may finally be opened
and you will hear what you should have heard
long ago.

Imagine a world without color,
where the world might just be a little better.

*(Note: I started writing this poem thinking that I’d talk about how terrible a world without color would be, but it morphed into this instead. I quite enjoyed editing it. It was so much more me than it would have been if I had written what I’d meant to write.)

My poetry belongs to me. All poems under the category “Poetry by Me” are mine. Use of my poetry without my permission is prohibited. If you wish to use any my poetry for any reason, ask me for permission first.

White hair and red eyes:
the testimony of a phenomena
feared and fraught.
Innocent beings cursed from birthfor no reason but to be different.
Scorned and scarred,
abused and misused
for being born.
Unique beings
twisted into monsters
by shallow minds and hollow hearts.
Beautiful bastards
wrongly mistaken for black sheep.
Brilliant beasts
hated for being misunderstood.

Red hair and white eyes,
bleak and colorless,
void of their once beauty,
never again to feel worldly pain.
Do you not see the horror
of what you’ve done?
Do you not care that an innocent life
has been unrightfully
stolen from this world?
Do you not feel shame?
Do you not wallow in your filthy guilt?
Your wicked ways
of hatred and uniformity
kill.
The systems you so regally uphold
can only destroy.
This unified world
drowns in uniformity.

*(Note: I have a really dark side, if you hadn’t noticed. Basically, it was late at night and I read some story that said something about an albino girl being made fun of for her looks and eventually taking her own life. For some reason, it really upset me, and this poem was the result. I won’t apologize.)

My poetry belongs to me. All poems under the category “Poetry by Me” are mine. Use of my poetry without my permission is prohibited. If you wish to use any my poetry for any reason, ask me for permission first.

It’s strange to think that, after everything,
it’s time to say goodbye.
I can’t very well imagine a world
without a flag in my hands
or a show in my mind, but
I suppose I’ll have to try.
Four years of my life, gone in a flash.
It’s impossible to grasp that
my time has come.
I’m moving on
to bigger and better things,
and though I’m nervous,
I’m ready.
I know whatever happens,
whatever trials I face,
I will overcome.
This Guard has shown me
the strength that I have
when I fight.
The lessons I have learned
through long days under a blazing sun,
through endless hours in a too-bright gym,
through scrapes and bruises and pain,
have helped me grow into
someone better.
I no longer fear
the glare of a spotlight.
I no longer believe
in limitations.
In the midst of exhaustion, I’ll remember
Perseverance
and I’ll push myself just a little further.
I’ll never give up
because a true Guard Girl
is stronger than that.
And no matter where I go,
no matter what I face,
I’ll never forget that nervous excitement
as I step onto the floor with my girls,
as I face the crowd in Dayton arena,
as I set my equipment and take deep breaths,
as I find my place for the beginning of the show,
as I hear the words, “Is the Guard ready?”,
as I feel it all leave me in one final breath.
And I’ll remember that feeling
when the show music starts
and all that’s left is
Guard.

*(Note: It took me a long time to manage to write this. This is basically my farewell to Guard. I’ve finished off my last season, and now that whole piece of my life is over. It’s been hard to comprehend, but I’m coping alright. The title of the poem was the show title for this past season.)

Picture source: *I’m looking for the perfect picture. I’ll get one up soon, pinkie promise!*

My poetry belongs to me. All poems under the category “Poetry by Me” are mine. Use of my poetry without my permission is prohibited. If you wish to use any my poetry for any reason, ask me for permission first.

I wander through the gift shop
packed with pointless knick knacks
and tourist traps
until I reach my elder kin.
He’s already holding out his prize,
the metal square printed with the name “Adam.”
First on the shelf, just like every other store,
and I ignore him to begin my own quest.

But as I search, I find that there’s
no space between “Holly” and “Hunter.”
I search the whole shelf, but I should know by now
my search will forever remain
fruitless.

My father guides me to the opposite end
where the inspirational words
sit and gather dust.
And there is my name,
next to “faith”
and under “love.”
There it hides, amongst all the other words
that will never make the name plates.

What will it take for the world to understand
I am not an idea,
but a person?
I suppose you expect me to be satisfied
by frilly Christmas ornaments
or those silly, inscribed stones
that people buy just to cast aside,
never to be seen again.

But I am not just some pretty face
that can be discarded so easily.
I am a person,
a human being,
and I expect to be treated as such.
All I want
is to find a filled slot
right in between “Holly” and “Hunter”
taken up by the name “Hope.”

*(Note: Yes, this is from real life experience and yes, it really does annoy me. If you are reading this and own a gift shop, please make sure to have name plates with a variety of names on them, including uncommon names. And don’t just leave out names like “Hope” and “Faith.” We want name plates too.)

My poetry belongs to me. All poems under the category “Poetry by Me” are mine. Use of my poetry without my permission is prohibited. If you wish to use any my poetry for any reason, ask me for permission first.

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About the Blogger

I'm an aspiring writer and relatively seasoned traveler who only wishes to see, experience, and learn more. I'm crazy about the idea of perspectives, find joy in the little things, and make it my personal mission to see the beauty is everything. Welcome to my blog, and thank you for taking the time to visit! Remember, carpe diem!

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